Loyalty's Reward
by Prander
Summary: A story from the Cybertron's past and the wicked ways of the Decepticons. None are to be trusted, many are to be feared. Only duty matters.


_**Cybertron. In an age long before man. The fields of Antillian.**_

Three Decepticon 'Dread' class heavy battle tanks sat idle. Parade rest, in arrow head formation. They were Autobot heavy armor hunters. None better. And their reputation preceded them.

They were massively armored with four sloping sides of the thickest armor, fronted by two huge battle cannons each with it's own tracking and targeting system. And with three massive treads fully ten feet across, they could shake heaven and earth when at full battle speed. What was more, from all sides they could blossom with lesser anti-personal guns and missiles ports in a full thirty hundred and sixty degree kill zone, making them truly terrifying. This left them more akin more to a massive steel pyramid leveled off at the top that could out-gun half a regiment, than any other tank of the times.

But they were not impervious. Their armor was pitted and scored from countless battles, so much so that it appeared textured to the naked eye. Only up close could you read the legacy of the kind of hell they operated in from all the shell hits and scorch marks.

And if you were _that_ close, you were probably dead already.

They were Dreadtread, Grinder and Baron. The last of an elite cadre of six.

Dreadtread's armored form was a gloomy dark gray splotched with dirty white camouflage while Grinder was more flamboyant, covered in light greens and brazen tans. Baron, the leader, cared the least for his appearance and was so weathered by warfare he appeared sandblasted down to raw steel in some places. None of them, not even himself, could remember his original color.

The radiation of the battlefield had long ago scorched what was left of his paint to a deep matte black.

Their engines idled hotly, making them steam in the cool air of coming evening, as they watched the flashes of distant battle lighting up the evening sky of Cybertron.

Megatron was attacking Kaon. His final assault on the capital and the great stronghold of Iacon.

The three Dread class tanks served as a reserve. No more were necessary. Had he been a more egotistical Decepticon, Baron might have resented their being withheld from the final battle. But privately he knew better. It wasn't the final battle. There _were_ no final battles .There would always be someone and somewhere to fight.

For now, Megatron commanded. That was all that mattered. But Baron couldn't help but wonder what Megatron intended to do about the scores of Autobot's fleeing Cybertron.

He mentally shrugged off such concerns. Whatever Megatron desired, that would be the command to follow, and Baron cared little for bragging rights among his brethren. So he watched the final battle with a detached interest, content to hold his position, and knowing there would plenty of fighting to do yet.

His two fellows held the same views, more or less. They had been at this so long they felt no need to prove themselves and even though Grinder was bit snobbish, he was also easily bored, canceling out what little ambition he had. Dreadtread was just plain dull. Unimaginative. And did his best only when others told him what to do. Baron himself was a Decepticon of few words.

Perhaps that was why the three of them were still alive in a war that had claimed millions.

Still, at a time like this, Grinder was not above being a little vain glorious.

"It would be going a lot easier on them if we were allowed to get stuck in." he sniffed.

The other two didn't reply. It was true enough. But there was no banter here as there would have been among the rank and file. No boasts and dares to take on the Autobot's single handedly or oaths about future kill counts.

Grinder sighed when his two comrades stayed silent and did not rise to the occasion.

"You two are just a regular pulsar of laughs, you know that?"

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Dreadtread grumbled. Grinder, in turn, didn't bother to reply to his slow witted brother. Dreadtread was _insufferably_ dull.

The three Dread tanks were not exactly friends...or family. They only stayed together out of habit and duty and the fact that other Decepticons felt uneasy around them. They were comrades in the long old game of war.

"Just keep your eyes open and do as you're told." Baron's rumbled. "There'll be plenty others that need killing when the time comes."

His voice much deeper than either of his two compatriots and Grinder was a little chagrined that he jumped a bit inside when Baron did speak. Infuriating that he still could make him do that. It always made him feel like a younger brother.

"You know what your problem is, Baron?" he scowled inside his vehicle form.

"No...but I would wager you're about to tell me."

"You have no imagination, my brother." Grinder ignored the sarcasm.

"I fail to see with what that has to do with anything."

Grinder was delighted that Baron seemed to be in a talkative mood. Well...what passedfor talkative with _him_.

"It has everything to do with it." Grinder suddenly rolled forward a little, cresting a small rise in the ground and turning towards the far off explosions as if he was aiming to see the battle better.

"It wouldn't hurt to make some suggestions now and then." He went on. "Shockwave does it. Even Soundwave. But you just click your heels and have us out here sitting on our hands."

"I don't believe I like your tone, brother."

Grinder pivoted on his treads.

"What the hell does my tone have to do with it?"

"Are you speaking of sedition?" Baron turned his own vehicle form slightly towards the other tank. Even though he was the twin of Baron's design, something about Baron made his cannons seem just that much larger than Grinder's own.

"No. I'm bored, that's all." He said. "I want to smash something."

"Just get back in line. I won't tell you twice."

"That's my point, _right there_. It's all so textbook with you." Grinder pouted, but he _did_ roll back down off the rise and out of Baron's line of sight.

"At least _something_ got a rise out of you." Grinder huffed out his parting shot and then lapsed into a sullen silence after he pulled back into position behind his leader.

Baron said nothing more. Grinder was really an unimaginative clod. His banter was just more boredom with maybe a streak of sadism. And because of such, at times he liked playing at petty mischief and sitting back to watch others get riled up.

Baron dismissed him entirely and went back to brooding on the read-out's of the far of battle. Only a moment passed before Dreadtread spotted a far off flyer coming in high.

"Starscream's coming." He announced, one point three seconds before Baron and Grinder registered him as incoming. He had the better scanners.

"Oh, that's just fine." Grinder sneered.

"What's the matter, Grinder? I would think you would enjoy some like minded company." Baron added lightly, his targeting trackers sliding up to lock on Starscreams descending form.

"You _wound_ me, brother." Grinder replied with real sentiment. "Sedition indeed. Boredom's one thing but here comes_ real_ trouble."

**ooo**

Starscream unfolded gracefully and landed with little effort. And he was already running his mouth off before he had even straightened up fully.

"Ahh my dear 'Heavy Hitters'. Is the west flank secure at this late hour?" He came walking forward, looking almost delicate next to the other three Decepticons. Baron and the others knew that most fliers were insufferably vain and were always strutting around with as much bemusement as possible, making it a habit of talking down to the ground based Decepticons every chance they could get..

Such a habit was dangerous around Dread class battle tanks. Only Starscream would be arrogant to dare.

Something niggled inside Baron most uncharacteristically. Starscream seemed more pleased with himself than ever. Almost as if he knew something. And in the case of Starscream, it wasn't just vanity when those wicked eyes gleamed with malice. They could represent real danger. Not that he was _afraid_ of Starscream. Baron had always chalked him to something slightly higher than a worm.

"I don't care for nicknames. What do you want, Starscream? Has Megatron sent orders?" he demanded.

"Hmmm. Well." Starscream stopped and cleared his throat. "Megatron is preoccupied with cutting his way into Iacon at the moment. I would dare say he's enjoying himself." Starscream tapped a long talon against his chin and turned to stare at the far off explosions himself. Then he turned back towards Baron with a cloying smile.

"Consequently Baron, it has occurred to me that being left out of this, shall we say, _poignant_ moment in Decepticon history...surely must sting a little, hmm?"

"I follow orders. The same cannot be said of all." Baron growled. Grinder and Dreadtread stayed silent. Grinder may have been of a like temperament with Starscream, but that didn't mean he enjoyed his company. Perhaps two wicked fools were one fool to many, and they were to malicious to even to stand each others company.

"Funny you should mention that. Orders and all." Starscream looked at his nails, facetious and posturing.

"If you _have_ brought orders, let's have them." Baron feared no reprimand from Starscream. They were co-equivalent in rank. Roughly.

"No, there are no orders." Starscream looked up at the stars. "I too have been made irrelevant in this final moment. I've seen to the disposal of what Autobot fliers there were and the battle grows cold. Still, our glorious leader is intent on being in the thick of things personally at the gates of Iacon." Starscream grinned to himself quite wickedly.

"Frankly I don't know if he's trying to make the evening news, or get into the history books."

Starscream was vain enough to expect some laughter, but he had misjudged the tanks. They did not reply. Not even Grinder. And Starscream bristled at the way they casually ignored him. He rallied and came at them from a different angle, holding back his natural contempt. He fixed his eyes on Baron.

"That's why I like you Baron. Stolid and stoic. Nothing really rattles your cage, does it?" He walked passed them and up onto the same rise Grinder had driven up on. He crossed his hands behind his back and drew the moment out, surveying the distant battle before turning around with a patronizing smile.

"Stoic enough to accept being irrelevant and stolid enough not to question it." He announced. "I might say...or rather, _suggest_, that any unfortunate occurrence on the battlefield might find the hierarchy of the Decepticon's being re-written before the day is finished. In that case, I could find it within myself to find a use for a soldier such as yourself."

"What are you saying?" Baron asked from where he held position. Starscream completely missed his tone.

"I'm saying that while you have little use for the idea personally, you should know that you are rather _popular _among the Decepticons. In a fearful sort of way. After all, many a comrade has been saved by your timely intervention. More than once. And your reputation is second to none. If things were to..._change_ around here you could prove invaluable to me. Not like how you've been mothballed by Megatron even before the final battle is won."

"He never shuts up." Grinder finally spoke. Starscream came back down off the rise, passing in front of Grinder.

"Why is so _difficult_ for you Dread class Decepticon's to use your imagination?" he snorted, he turned to Baron. "Surely it must tickle your receptors to think about what would happen if Mega..."

But Starscream really _had _misjudged the tanks. Baron in particular. He transformed, the impressive sight cutting Starscream off in mid-sentence and making him back up a pace. Slowly Baron unfolded into a massive Decepticon, his two cannon's projecting out from shoulders nearly as wide as Starscreams wingspan. His arms and legs were massive to match and with a shrug, the treads lining the back of his limbs bristled open with wicked looking spikes that Baron used to shred opponents with in close combat.

Starscream, getting his composure, made his third mistake in as many minutes when he naturally assumed Baron had made this rare appearance by him having captured his attention.

He had...but _not _in the manner his ego allowed for.

"There." He smiled wickedly. "Now perhaps you'll want to listen to what I..."

Baron's arm shot out and he snatched Starscream off his feet, yanking him close and dangling him off the ground.

"You sniveling dog. Was that a threat?"

"A...a threat!?" Starscream stammered. "Wh-what are you talking about?!" His eyes were wide.

"A threat to Megatron. For I can not believe you would be so bored _or _so foolish as to come out here during the battle and try to spread your seditious filth around. You have much to high an opinion of yourself, flyer. And if I have wondered anything before today, it was why Megatron never crushed you under his heel."

Starscream clawed weakly at Baron's clench fist, shocked that he had so badly misjudged the great silent Decepticon's loyalty. What he had said was marginally true. Baron _was_ held in awe in some quarters. Admired even. All the more so that he had little _use_ for his apparent popularity. It hadn't been the first time trench-rumors talked about his potential command capabilities. There had always been whispers comparing him to Megatron and many a battle won had hinged on his very presence.

"No, no, no! You mistake my meaning!" Starscream squawked.

"I doubt it. You insult me. To think you could deign to drop in from your lofty perch and make a two minute speech that would have me following you around like a puppy? By Primus, I never met such a particular brand of megalomania in all my cycles."

"That's not what I meant at all!" Starscream wailed. "I was just saying that a warrior of your stature shouldn't be relegated to...no! No, don't!" he cringed as Baron raised a massive fist, pulling his arm back.

At this display, the other two Dread class tanks finally emitted a wicked laughter. Baron may have been a very no-nonsense Decepticon, and it was rare to see him so animated, but they could appreciate how even he relished in making Starscream squirm.

Baron tired of it quickly though and with a disgusted snort he lowered his fist.

"You're not worthy of my fists. Get back where you belong, carrion-eater and trouble us no more." And with little effort he flipped Starscream into the air away from him. Starscream transformed immediately, mid-air, and blasted away. The small grains of fine metal and carbon powder that was the first of Cybertron tinkled off Baron in his after-wash.

"_There's_ your sedition, brother." Grinder said, watching him go on his screens.

"We should inform Megatron." Dreadtread added.

Baron turned to his two comrades.

"Did one of you record any that?" he asked.

"I have." Grinder replied, pleased at his foresight, and even eager to please his leader.

"Good." Baron grunted and turned to walk up the rise now himself, stopping there and watching the battle as he rested his massive fists on his hips.

He said nothing more, reflecting on what he had been thinking of earlier.

There was always more fighting to be done. And there would always be those that needed killing.

This day might _indeed_ see some changes made. Changes that might surprise that loathsome Starscream once and for all. But thanks to the treacherous Decepticon's words, now Baron_ did _rankle on being relegated out here as a reserve. He wanted to be there, next to Megatron.

He rubbed his chin and weighed his options.

The battle roared on.

_**To be continued...**_


End file.
